After such a cycle of songs which follows Mignon's career in the order of the novel – a cycle moreover which has been planned to make perfect sense in terms of its key progressions (B minor - E minor - B major) – it seems strange to revert to the Mignon of an earlier part of the book with another
Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt. The key of A minor moreover does not easily follow the preceding B major. It seems clear from the manuscript that Schubert had already planned the three songs in the cycle before he decided to publish his sixth, and last, setting of
Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt as an alternative to the opening duet, and almost as an afterthought. He must have realized that it was not the easiest thing in the world for a soprano to have a tenor at her disposal, a tenor who would be willing moreover to fade into the background for the remaining two songs in the set. Here is a solo alternative which, if placed at the beginning of the cycle, also makes sense in terms of the tonalities: A minor - E minor - B major. The listener to this disc can re-programme the cycle, placing the A minor setting before
Heiss mich nicht reden.
The music for this song is world-famous, the simplicity and potency of the melody a perfect mirror of Mignon's plight. It is therefore something of a surprise to discover that Schubert decided to recycle an old song, a Salis-Seewis setting he had composed ten years before (Ins stille Land, D403) and to graft on new words to a melody that already existed. Of course he made changes to the shape of the tune, and the Mignon setting, with its impassioned middle section, is a much grander creation than Ins stille Land. But the key of that song (A minor in its later versions) and the gently undulating accompaniment, as well as the overall shape of the melody, have been absorbed unashamedly into the Goethe setting. The Salis-Seewis poem has much in common with Mignon's lyric of course – it asks imploring questions about who will lead us to the land of rest. The longing of Mignon and the Harper for a beloved who lives `in der Weite' seems very similar. Both songs are about 'crossing the bar' in one way or another, and both songs are sung to the open heavens.
The piano introduction is new. This is inspired by the opening vocal melody, but it is not merely a pre-echo of what we will hear sung; the second half of the Vorspiel, with its plangent chromatic stab of pain on the flattened supertonic belongs to the piano alone. This sets the scene with grandeur and eloquence as mournful right-hand octaves (which challenge any pianist's ability to play a meaningful legato) draw us into Mignon's world, and left-hand triplets propel the song gently forward in the manner of an Italian aria. Perhaps Schubert remembered that Mignon might express herself in the musical manner of her homeland; the vocal line seems the purest bel canto, and the modulation into the relative major on the repeat of 'Weiss, was ich leide', and the little ornament on the second word seems almost Bellini-esque. The middle section of the song, however, is something that only Schubert could have written. The tune for the words 'Allein und abgetrennt von aller Freude, seh' ich an's Firmament nach jener Seite' has been directly lifted from Ins stille Land. The accompaniment, however, has become much more sophisticated: rather banal quavers in the earlier setting are replaced with right-hand crotchets accented off the beat like little stabs of pain. The music for the phrase 'Ach! der mich liebt und kennt ist in der Weite' is the most powerful illustration of Schubert's ability at this stage of his career to spin the most profound magic out of the most slender resources. The accompaniment slowly alternates between a third inversion of an E7 chord (the bass a mezzo staccato dotted crotchet on a low D) with the first inversion of A minor, a low C in the bass. As in the duet setting, the distance between left hand and right somehow suggests the broad sweep of the firmament. This relatively simple device accomplishes miracles: a deep stillness descends on the song in a matter of seconds, and the voice (marked 'sehr leise') floats above the piano as if lost in the stars. The bass C falls to a low B flat and a darkness deeper yet is ushered in; a shudder of sextuplets in the right hand on a diminished seventh, the first of a chain of such chords, introduces the 'Es schwindelt mir' section which had given Schubert such trouble in earlier settings. Here he gets it exactly right: the passage is searing and exciting, but it is contained within the frame of the whole. There is a brief moment of forte, but the frisson of shock and palpitation is accomplished mainly within piano. This leads to a recapitulation which is by and large a repetition of the opening. The postlude repeats the introduction. There is every sign that Schubert has pared down his creation to the most economical form where every note, every dynamic mark, every beautifully set word, tells to the fullest effect. This is one of those masterpieces that appears to have been always a part of the song repertory. One cannot imagine a note different.
from notes by Graham Johnson © 1996